Notes/warnings: And now, for something completely different from what I usually do. Gotta step out of the comfort zone sometime, right? This is a hugely experimental work being done for NaNoWriMo so it might not be the most organized or flowery thing, but it's something. It's going to be short compared to my other stuff (50k words or slightly more), kinda drabble-y, but the plot's more or less lined up and there's a solid conclusion planned. Anyway, it's another Rebirth SI fic, but this time I'm keeping the insert character as true to myself as possible.

Rating is for language. There won't be any serious romance but mentions of it are definitely a possibility...maybe. Manga spoilers are also a possibility. Also, it doesn't have any continuity whatsoever with Laterality but the portrayals of canon characters might be similar because I just have too much fun giving certain ones a hard time.

Dunno if I'll finish it by the end of the month and it's probably gonna be pretty weird but thanks for checking this out!

I.

I'm pretty sure I was a good kid, at least once upon a time, but for Emiko and Satoshi—my second parents—I was one-hundred percent convinced I was a veritable nightmare of a six-year-old. An absolute terror.

I drove them up the wall and I had fun doing it.

Well, except for the times when Emiko reached her limits and hauled me up onto her lap to beat my ass red.

They were good people, just a little frayed at the edges from having a wild, freewheeling daughter that had little regard for social etiquette and authority. I felt for them, really. But not enough to become the quiet, composed, polite, respectful, intelligent—the list went on, and on, courtesy Mama Emiko—child they wished they had.

It was probably because I was such an enormous handful that they never tried for more kids.

But, hey, being an only child wasn't so bad. It was new. It was nice. I didn't have an annoying older brother trying to drown me in the swimming pool for fun every single damn summer anymore!

Well, I did have something of an older brother in this life, but I'll get to that later.

About Emiko and Satoshi, though—they were both Uchiha, born and raised. Naturally pretty, just like most of the people from this godforsaken clan tend to be, but also a little weird and uptight, too, mostly because of the village politics.

Being Uchiha was no walk in the park.

Satoshi often complained to Emiko about what kinds of topics and arguments arose during clan meetings, how the village viewed them (which wouldn't get any better after Kyuubi's attack, I knew), what the Hokage should or shouldn't do, and how newly-appointed head Fugaku-sama was too lenient or strict regarding this or that policy, yada yada. Daddy was very much pro-Uchiha, being a part of the council that met often, but he was also strongly opinionated.

He worked in the Police Station with a good deal of the other Uchiha adults.

Emiko, when not over-agitated and forced to transform into a fearsome demon to maintain order in the household (again, mainly my doing), was a kind, but not overly sweet, woman. She valued hard work and didn't confine herself to being only a housewife. Her occupation was the neighborhood seamstress, handling the production of new, bland, ugly high-collared clothing for the majority of the district's population and taking care of small rips and tears that needed mending.

She was lucky I wasn't a bad hand at sewing myself, and actually enjoyed it quite a bit in my former life, otherwise when she asked me to help her it would have only caused more stress.

But she quickly learned about my dislike for the gloomy, deep and dark monotony of the "Uchiha uniform" when I sneakily weaved a rainbow of colorful threads into the clothing seams and that was the end of that.

Even though I acted like a teenager in the midst of a rebellious phase most of the time, I liked Emiko and Satoshi. They were good parents. They treated me well despite it all.

I was the only child they'd ever known—their own child, in their eyes—so I figured I owed them that much, because it was a possibility they would never have any more, being that the clan's demise was barely a decade away.

The clan's fall.

Itachi was currently four years old—if my memory wasn't faulty, he would end up eradicating the clan, including me, when he was thirteen. At least, sometime after he was inducted into ANBU. Only Sasuke, currently unborn but soon to be, would remain alive.

If I'd wanted, I could try to stop it. Influence Itachi, warn Shisui somehow and keep Danzo from interfering, throw a big huge tantrum in the middle of Konoha and scream about corrupt, foul play that would lead to murder and hard feelings and all kinds of tragedy, but...

I really didn't want to. Why burden myself with something like that when it would all turn out the way it should in the end? This story already had its beginning and its end set. I knew that the main cast would handle everything and, when all was said and done, they would know exactly what to do.

Call me a fatalist, but I trusted them. It wasn't my timeline to interrupt. I was only visiting.

Besides, there were so many more things to do than wear my conscience thin with savior complexes and grandiose visions.

Konoha was an interesting place, full of interesting characters—people.

I wanted to try becoming one of them before I died, because no one would remember me anyway.

But not through becoming a shinobi, no, that life was wrought with death, and I didn't want to cut mine any shorter than it already was. It wasn't a world I wanted to set foot in.

There were other ways to leave my mark.

"One fish, two fish..."

To anyone watching the scene from afar, it probably would have seemed like a cute little girl was passing the time playing by the riverside barefoot on her own, singing and not causing harm or damage to anyone or anything. The Naka River that cut through the clan property was a popular spot for recreation, after all. No one ever thought to look twice when people were congregated there or just hanging idly by.

But if they stopped to look just a little closer, they would have seen a makeshift tree branch fishing rod clutched between my chubby, dirt-covered hands, tied at the end with some of Satoshi's ninja wire that was in turn attached to one of Emiko's sturdy, curved upholstery needles. I was pretty proud of the thing—neither of the folks had a fishing hobby so I had to improvise, and it worked pretty damn well, considering.

I'd dug up a handful of wriggling earthworms for the activity, too, for bait, because there wasn't a decent fishing shop anywhere in the whole damn town who would sell a confrontational haggler of a child any proper equipment. I had the ryou—I mean, I had Satoshi's ryou, but the old shopkeeper refused no matter what and ran me out of the shop when I started cussing.

In the end, this is what it came to. But the koi sure were biting.

Three! There were three koi in the little yellow bucket I carried with me specifically for the task—Emiko said it was for the sandbox they'd recently installed in the local park, but that just sounded so boring. Who needed kiddy sandboxes when there was a perfectly abundant river in the district? Maybe I'd wrangle up a whole group of the neighborhood kids and start a fishing club, because even if they wanted to become shinobi, fishing was a skill that benefited anyone, anywhere!

The line tugged, and with one swift jerk, I reeled in another catch.

I dropped the flailing, slimy koi into the bucket with the others and grinned before speaking out my pride in the somewhat mangled Japanese my young self had managed to learn. "Wouldja look at that, I'm pro!" The words and pronunciations still felt heavy on my tongue, because I was never that proficient with the language before despite trying my best to learn (again, procrastination), so I tended to use simplistic terms. And as for writing it? Emiko practically broke down in tears when she did her best to teach me and it just didn't take easily. But she kept on, like a champ, and I think it became her life mission to turn me articulate and literate.

But, at least I had fishing. Some skills never left even when one passed between the threshold of life and death. Even if that skill was mostly dumb luck.

"Hey, what are you doing there...? Rika?"

The voice was familiar—I'd only met the man twice before because of Satoshi's position on the clan council, but it was most definitely Fugaku. Clan Head and Police Chief—as well as Sasuke and Itachi's good ol' dad—himself, probably on a patrolling round when he'd caught sight of me and got suspicious. His tone was weary, and a little forced, as if he were afraid what he'd find out. But with my track record, he was right to be.

I slapped my brightest, toothiest, kiddiest smile onto my face as I heaved the yellow bucket into my arms and held it up towards the older Uchiha to proudly exhibit the results of my conquest, because it was pretty impressive in all actuality. "Fishin'! See! I caught this many, Fugaku-sama!"

Fugaku's stern, but slightly curious, expression soured over into something shocked and simultaneously disgusted as he spotted the fish flopping around in the bucket, helpless and gaping for air. He was so taken aback he even stepped back, jaw hanging open in surprise because, really, what kind of six-year-old Uchiha kid would think to do something like that?

Only me, Uchiha Rika, the Problem Child of the Entire Clan—self-proclaimed title.

The man sputtered for a moment, briefly mirroring the breathless fish as he strained to find a response, and if I didn't know better I'd think he choked on air, too. But as soon as the shock passed, his composed, authoritative expression was back in place. "Rika," he began, doing his best to keep his tone level and not-so-harsh because I was just an innocent little kid who oh-so-obviously didn't know better and was, all things considered, not very smart, "you can't fish here."

Oh, boy, he was really trying his hardest not to lose his cool. There was a telltale pulsing nerve near his temple and a twitch in his jaw. He sure got lucky, having good, well-behaved kids like Itachi and Sasuke.

"You mean it's not legal? Am I gonna get arrested?"

"...No, but. Put—just put them back."

I could all but hear the gritting of teeth. Maybe today was the day the clan leader would actually lose his cool and lecture me into next week just like Satoshi said he would. He came damn near close when I accidentally bleached almost all of the council's clothes (seriously, it was an accident, because Emiko kept the cleaning supplies in basically identical containers. Who did that?).

At least I was a perfect example of how not to let your kids act.

"Why?" My grin stretched further, and I was sure I was like a Cheshire Cat. Being a kid again was the best thing ever.

"Because, Rika, you can't fish here." Had to hand it to him, he really tried to have the patience of a saint. "Those koi are ornamental—for decoration only. Not sport." Even going so far as to explain to me just what was wrong here instead of outright reprimanding me despite the fact he probably hated me.

Emiko and Satoshi could learn a thing or two from him.

When I didn't move, he reached for the yellow bucket—and I quickly held it away and narrowed my eyes. "I'm gonna eat 'em."

"Koi don't taste very good, Rika—" Finally, his nerves were beginning to fray. He crossed his arms and stood tall, parent-mode on, just daring me to keep up the innocent kid act when he knew I knew better. "If you don't put them back I'll have to tell your parents about this."

"But fish filets—"

"Rika!"

Ah, that voice, my saving grace—or more like my clean-up crew. I ignored Fugaku in favor of the new arrival, my worrywart cousin and surrogate big brother because he didn't have any siblings either, Uchiha Shisui. I grinned again and waved frantically, cheerfully, doing my best to balance the heavy bucket with only one arm as the contents sloshed and came close to dripping on Clan Leader's shoes.

"Shisui! Hey, come look!"

In spite of my excitement, poor guy looked downright frazzled because I'd gone and landed myself in another mess, this time with Fugaku, of all people. He was only a year my senior but already acted so much older and responsible, quite possibly thanks to me.

I was pretty sure he'd have stress lines by the time he was a teenager.

Shisui quickly assessed the situation and looked nearly as gobsmacked as Police Chief had been when he realized what the issue was. "Rika..." he held out his hands for the bucket imploringly, putting on his best Mom Face—at least that's what it looked like, when he got all serious on me. "You can't fish here. Let's throw them back in, okay?"

I just couldn't have any fun when he looked so troubled. Made me feel a little guilty.

"'Kay. Be free!" Instead of handing the bucket over like he asked, I dumped the contents into the river and watched the four koi flounder about before getting their bearings and swimming away with the current. Then I turned back to the two stick-in-the-mud Uchiha and prepared to state a complaint—but a hand pressed against the back of my head (ow ow ow didn't I mention my scalp was super sensitive?! Some people just didn't care) and forced me into a stooping bow.

Jerk.

"She didn't mean any trouble, Fugaku-sama," came Shisui's voice as he bowed beside me, like a partner in crime, apologizing in my stead. "And she won't do it again. Right, Rika?" I felt, rather than saw, his eyes slide towards me and stare, putting on the pressure.

I shrugged. "I won't."

The hand on my head slipped away, leaving my hair feeling slightly mussed (but it was unruly anyway, often sticking out to the sides in a weird spiky, fanned way so it didn't matter), and I quickly straightened my back to stare up at Fugaku, putting on my best, most charming smile.

The man eyed us both critically for a moment, wondering just how he should react, but in the end he only breathed out a deep sigh and shook his head, probably just glad the ordeal was over. "Alright. I'll take your word for it." His gaze met mine, and while exasperated, it wasn't particularly pissed. Bet he still didn't like me, though. "You're lucky you have someone like Shisui here to look out for you, Rika."

He was damn straight. Shisui was so good at smoothing over bad situations that he could probably get me out of jail free—if I ever needed it. With the added bonus that he was practically Itachi's BFF and already had good standing with Fugaku here as well as the great majority of the clan... unlike me. The kid was going places.

Well...they weren't necessarily good places, considering how his life would end. But he was someone to be proud of, at the very least.

As soon as Fugaku left us and continued on his patrol route, I was left to deal with Shisui, who was in full-out mom mode, hands on his hips, dark eyes narrowed and everything, the whole nine yards. He looked a little like Emiko when he did that, even, because we were related from her side of the family—and because they were both pretty, even when mad, and even with his chubby, harmless kiddy face.

Emiko and Shisui's dad Kou were both Kagami's kids; we were first cousins. But everyone in the clan was related somehow or another except for the rare few that married in from outside the clan (and all outsiders married in no matter what because of some stiff, prestigious clan rule, so there were no stray bloodlines wandering out beyond the district and everyone could be kept track of easily. Control freak much?)—I was pretty sure Fugaku was our distant cousin, too because of something Satoshi once said. It was all kind of inbred in one way or another but no one really ever mentioned that.

Clan purity was a scary thing.

"Rika...did you take those without asking?" He pointed to the fishing rod, but more specifically, to the ninja wire and sewing needle, and frowned.

"Yeah?" As if he even needed to ask—Emiko and Satoshi learned the hard way that they had to keep basically every single little thing out of my reach because I'd only use them to terrorize the neighborhood or something without their supervision. Like the time I ran around the district with Emiko's undergarments on my head.

A grimace overtook his face at my blunt response and he sighed, looking as if he wanted to cradle his head in his hands and cry. "That's no good, Rika. You know Auntie Emiko and Uncle Satoshi will get upset."

"I'm not stupid, Shisui. I know. Just was bored is all." Being a six-year-old was fun, to an extent, but having to uphold the attitude of one publicly was a pain in the ass sometimes, especially when I wasn't that great at speaking the language yet. Everyone thought I was a moron, or just too naïve, or reckless, never thinking things through, seeking attention—like a Naruto or something, even though he wasn't born yet. They didn't know I was mentally probably the same age as most of the younger adults in the village and I was working on completing my newly-revised bucket list.

They didn't know what I knew.

I picked up the silly-looking fishing rod and shoved it towards his chest so he could confiscate it, like he usually did. He had to have a treasure trove of the many things he'd taken from me, somewhere. Hell, he could have returned most of it to their rightful places for all I knew. "It's no crime—is it?"

Maybe fishing for koi in the Naka River was something like destruction of property, actually.

No one really did eat them, after all—Fugaku was right.

"Dunno." Shisui set the fishing rod over his shoulder and shrugged. Well, I guess he didn't know everything, since he was only seven. "But, anyway, Auntie wanted me to find you and bring you back for dinner. Let's go." A smile spread across his face as he nodded his head towards the main street. Even if he was bothered by my bad habits, he never held it against me.

A few days after this little incident occurred, the police department went to great lengths to post boldly-lettered "NO FISHING" signs along the riverside.

I was pretty sure it wasn't a coincidence.